The Ties That Bind
by Audrey Lynne
Summary: Sequel to "Beauty and the Geek and Beyond," though you needn't read that one first. Drama abounds for the Flynn-Fletchers, starting with the return of Candace and Phineas' biological father. Deserves the T rating. Chapter 13 now up.
1. He's Baaaaaack!

_Well, here it is, the sequel to "Beauty and the Geek and Beyond." You don't need to read the previous story to understand this one, though as a writer I'm certainly not going to tell you not to. :) All you need to know for sure from the story is that Ferb is a high-functioning autistic with savant abilities regarding engineering and design, and Candace is receiving counseling, but hasn't stopped busting entirely. She just saves it for the times she deems most dangerous. Which is still kind of a lot. This story's not gonna be quite as carefree as the prior; it'll get a bit intense later on, so fair warning. Nothing above a T-rating, though, but it earns its rating this time around. Pairings: Linda and Lawrence, and Candace and Jeremy. As for Isabella and Phineas, there's the crushing from her and the obliviousness from him, but no actual romantic relationship just yet. I support the pairing, but they're still a bit young for true romance and all that follows, IMHO. As for Vanessa and Ferb, status normal: he has a cute kid crush; she doesn't know and is still too old for him for another few years. Now, with all my declarations, out of the way, the legalities. Once again...._

_I do not own this oh-so-adorable show._

_Swampy and Dan created it, not me, and Disney owns it._

_I am not making any money off this product and am paid only in my own satisfaction._

_A word to my awesome reviewers – in advance, thanks, and while I try to remember to thank each of you personally, sometimes I'm accessing the site and my email from my phone, which doesn't let me reply and I forget. I appreciate every one of you, and if I don't tell you that personally, I apologize. Feel free to make suggestions of what you'd like to see as the story unfolds. I may not be able to work it in, but sometimes I can and I want you to enjoy the tale. That's my primary goal, to entertain someone through my work._

_Unlike my last fic, the dates are not specifically stated, mostly because this fic doesn't have specific dates assigned to it like the last one did in my mind. It follows the events of the first story, though. This fic will branch off into its own alternate time line eventually as certain events occur, but will definitely keep the same format to the universe – the people are the same we know and love, the boys make the impossible possible, and Candace goes above and beyond the call of her big-sister duties sometimes. For those who didn't read the first story, this one starts during the spring that follows The Summer of Big Ideas._

- - - - - - - -

"Frolic. I think that's my new favorite word." Phineas Flynn said the word aloud again, dragging it out and contemplating it. "Frooooooliiiiic."

Ferb Fletcher glanced over at him from the shade the tree in their backyard provided. "Yes, some words do strike the ear as sounding strange sometimes."

Phineas nodded. "Yeah. Residence is kinda like that sometimes. Res-i-dence. I think I like that one too."

Ferb shrugged. "Well, while you're phonetically deciphering the English language, should I be figuring out what we ought to do today? I would hate to see a perfectly good Saturday go to waste."

"Anything in particular you want to do?" Phineas asked. He knew he kind of dominated the planning sometimes, but excitement got the better of him and off he went on a whirlwind of enthusiasm. In quiet moments like this, he tried to make sure Ferb got a chance to have his say.

Ferb shook his head.

"Okay," Phineas said. As he was thinking, he heard his mother call out from inside the house. "Phineas! Ferb! There's someone at the door and I'm busy with the oven! Can one of you go get it?"

"Sure, Mom!" Phineas yelled back, hopping up and heading inside. Ferb waited where he was; there was unspoken confirmation between the two of them that Phineas would be back.

Phineas opened the door, finding a man he didn't recognize. The man was wearing a nice suit, the kind that looked pretty expensive. Phineas waved at him. "Hi. What can we do for you?"

The man looked down at him, frowning a bit. "You're Phineas, aren't you?"

Phineas nodded. "Yep, that's me."

"Is your mother here?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Phineas replied, "but she's busy in the kitchen. Why don't you come on in? I can take you to her."

"That would be nice," their visitor said. "Thank you."

"Oh, no problem." Phineas trotted into the kitchen, the man following. "Hey, Mom. I brought him back here so you could finish what you're doing."

She nodded, then poked at a turkey breast with a meat thermometer. "Thank you, Phineas." As Phineas headed back outside, he heard his mother murmur, "Come on, little turkey breasts, just ten more degrees for me."

- - - - - - - -

Linda Flynn knew coaxing her turkey breasts wouldn't actually make them bake faster, but it helped her pass the time. As soon as they were done, she could put them in the refrigerator to chill, then dice them up to have perfect turkey strips to go in the salad tonight. _Take that, Martha Stewart._

"Funny." A voice came from behind her, one she recognized instantly, and it chilled her. "I never pictured you as a domestic diva, Linda. Having fun?"

Linda froze, then stood up and turned around. "Michael. What the hell are you doing here?"

Her ex-husband shrugged, smirking a bit. "Don't worry, I'm not looking to get back together."

"Good, because I'm happily married." Linda practically spat out the words. Michael had never abused her or Candace, but after putting up with years of his cheating and the fact that other than monthly court-mandated checks, he had never sent his children so much as a birthday card, Linda was more than a bit annoyed. "Considering you insisted on a paternity test for your son before you'd even met him, I think you've got some explaining to do, showing up in my house like this. Does it mean anything to you that the first time you laid eyes on him was just a few minutes ago? Do you know how old Candace is now? Do you _care_?"

Michael crossed his arms. "I do care, and I've made mistakes. I'll admit that. As for the paternity test, my lawyer insisted, considering you so conveniently discovered you were pregnant after the divorce went through."

Linda could grant him that, but his ambivalence she couldn't forget and she was going to have a hard time forgiving. "You never answered my question. Why are you here?" She shoved the turkey breasts back into the oven, closing the door hard.

"It's business," Michael explained. "I saw a video clip on line, from a summer music program here in Danville. A group called the Baljeetles. Heard of them?"

Linda shook her head. "Phineas and Ferb were helping their friend out with a project."

"And 'Gitchee Gitchee Goo,' the amazing one-hit wonder?" Michael asked.

"It was for some teen singing idol competition at the mall." Linda rolled her eyes. "Listen, if you're trying to point out to me that my children have talent, I already know that."

"_Our_ children," Michael reminded her. "At least Candace and Phineas are. Your stepson, he's good, but I'm thinking a family act here. Picture it with me. Lindana makes a comeback, her greatest yet, with her two children at her side. Lindana Plus Two. Or something. I haven't nailed down a name yet. Either way, you're going to need a record producer, and who better than me?"

Linda ripped the dishtowel off of the oven door handle and threw it at him. "What, so your children can earn their own child support checks? Forget it, Michael. I don't care if you made some hot-shot producer of yourself or not. You were never there when it mattered."

Michael frowned. "Hey, I'm no deadbeat."

True, he'd paid his child support as ordered, but there was a lot more to being a father than that. Linda's children called Lawrence Fletcher "Dad" because he was the only real father they'd known. "Maybe not, but they don't make Father's Day cards for 'sperm donor with a checkbook,' either. Now get out."

"Those children have a future in music, Linda," Michael insisted.

"Maybe, and if it's what they want, then I'll support it when the right opportunity comes along." Linda crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not selling them out for some crazy PR stunt. Get out."

"At least let them decide," Michael pleaded.

Linda pointed toward the door. "We'll discuss it over dinner. Out!"

Reluctantly, Michael edged his way toward the door. "Call me and let me know."

Linda kept pointing until he was out the door and had shut it, fighting the urge to make a much ruder gesture. Once Michael was gone, Linda returned her attention to the oven, but then her husband seemed to materialize from out of nowhere at her side.

"What's wrong, love?" Lawrence asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I thought I heard you arguing with someone down here."

"No one you need to worry about," Linda assured him. "He's heard our children play and he wants to turn them into dollar signs.

Lawrence was the one frowning now. "That's no good at all."

"No, it's not." Linda glared in the direction of the door. "And if I have my way, he won't be back here again."


	2. Who Loves Ya, Baby?

True to her word, Linda had brought up the subject of Michael's offer over dinner. She tried her best to remain impartial, but she was secretly glad when both Phineas and Candace rejected the idea out of hand. Both agreed that if Michael's only reason for coming back into their lives was to exploit their talent, they wanted nothing to do with it. Of course, if they _had_ wanted to do it, Linda would have put on her best smile and then arranged to set it up through her old label, just to spite Michael. She wasn't going to give him the chance to hurt her children. Before Lawrence and Ferb had come into their lives, she had fielded enough questions from Candace and Phineas about where their father was and why he didn't care enough about them to see them. It wasn't going to happen again.

Lawrence had been sweet enough to offer to defend his family's honor against Michael if necessary, and while Linda knew he wouldn't hesitate if she asked, she smiled and turned him down. Lawrence wasn't a fighting man, nor did Linda want him to be. She could handle Michael, though it would be preferable if the children weren't around when she did, so she would be free to speak her mind. It wasn't even the number of times he'd cheated on her while they were married – and that was a fairly large number. No, that Linda had let go of long ago. He could treat her any way he wanted, but to mess with any of the kids was a declaration of war.

Linda couldn't hate Michael entirely, because he'd given her two beautiful children. Still, she wouldn't be entirely surprised if someday, someone showed up on the doorstep claiming to be Phineas and Candace's half-brother or sister. A part of her was surprised it hadn't happened yet.

Exhaustion overtook Linda as she crawled into bed, snuggling up against Lawrence as he wrapped his arms around her. Tomorrow, she would deal with Michael. Tonight, she was just glad to be in the arms of the man who loved her.

- - - - - - - -

Jeremy sat across the aisle from Candace in her third-period history class, and since she learned most of what she needed to know about history from her parents, Candace spent most of the class period daydreaming. She paid just enough attention to stay out of trouble, but it was hard to focus on anything else when she looked into those _gorgeous_ eyes of Jeremy's. It would have been especially easy to daydream today, when the teacher was talking about Stonehenge – been there, seen it, listened to Dad's endless historical trivia – but Candace was a bit preoccupied. She was glad she'd been at Stacy's when her biological father had dropped by yesterday afternoon. Candace had only been four when he'd left, so she wasn't sure she would have recognized him, but she definitely would have been tempted to tell him off once she realized it was him.

Candace didn't remember much about her biological father – she only had one "real dad" and Michael sure as hell wasn't it – except that he always seemed to have a lot of friends. Once she'd gotten older, Candace had realized that most of the "friends" were women he was cheating on her mother with, and it just gave her one more grudge to hold against him. Sure, it was nice that the checks he sent supported her clothing habit and gave Phineas money for his projects, but Candace was sure he wasn't doing it out of the goodness of his heart. If the court hadn't ordered it, Candace doubted he would have sent a dime.

Phineas seemed more quietly curious about Michael's return than anything, but Candace couldn't exactly blame him. He had never expressed any interest in Michael, but it was going to be hard for Phineas to contain his curiosity when the man was back in town.

Candace was even more pissed when she found out _why_ Michael was back. It was bad enough for him to waltz back into their lives after all this time, but doing it to exploit his children for profit was so much worse. Sure, Candace hoped a singing career was in her future, but there was no way she was going to do it for some lame promotional stunt.

"...Candace's stepdad is a historian – and he's from England, too." Jeremy's voice was like a tether, pulling Candace back to reality.

"Oh, how wonderful." The teacher looked at Candace. "Do you think he would be willing to come talk to our class?"

Oh, hell. Candace loved her stepfather – truly she did – but the thought of him coming to her school, let alone her class, had her wanting to curl up and die of embarrassment. Lawrence Fletcher was, to put it mildly, an extremely lovable dork. He was a bit off, and his family loved that about him, but for him to talk to _her_ class? Oh, no. It didn't matter that Jeremy had brought the idea up. No. Just no.

Jeremy smiled at Candace, that sweet smile that always had her melting into a Candace-shaped puddle on the floor. "That'd be really cool."

Oh, _hell_. "I'll talk to him," Candace murmured dreamily. "I'm sure he would love to." And he probably would.

Just then, the bell rang, and Candace wasted no time making a beeline for her locker as the teacher dismissed them with a, "We'll continue this chapter tomorrow." As usual, Stacy was waiting for Candace beside her locker.

"What's up with you, girl?" Stacy asked. "I know high school's rough, but you look like someone ran over your dog."

Candace shook her head. "It's nothing. Jeremy suggested I get my dad to talk to our class about Stonehenge and I wasn't paying much attention and I agreed to it...and then there's the whole thing with my biological father coming back.... I've got a lot on my mind."

"Sounds like it." Stacy patted Candace's arm. "Come on, let's get to the cafeteria and you can tell Auntie Stacy all about it over lunch."

Candace forced a smile, but it quickly became genuine. If anyone could help her sort through this mess, it was Stacy. High school wasn't easy, but it was only temporary. Good friends were forever.


	3. Between What You Wanted and What You Got

_The songs used in this chapter, of which lyrics are actually quoted, are "Insensitive" by Jann Arden and "There's a Fine, Fine Line" from Avenue Q. I didn't write and don't own them, just downloaded them from iTunes...no infringement intended._

- - - - - - - -

Linda cranked up the radio while she was driving, enjoying the trip. She was excited – certainly not over her upcoming lunch meeting with Michael, during which she would tell him to take that fancy car of his and go back to New York with it. No, rather, she'd been browsing Cragslist that morning and saw the loveliest antique cuckoo clock – and even better, the current owner obviously had no idea what it was worth. They were offering it free to anyone who would "take it away." Linda found a lot of her best stock for the antiques store that way. It was true, one man's junk _was_ another's treasure.

"You Snuck Your Way Into My Heart" was playing, and Linda sang along. She tried to ban all thoughts of the way Michael had barged his way back into her life; this song was for her and Lawrence and she didn't want to ruin it. The next song, "Insensitive," fit Michael far better.

As Linda left the seller's home, cuckoo clock in hand, she found she was still singing softly to herself. "I thought that you might have...some advice to give...on how to be...insensitive." Unfortunately, her meeting with Michael was up next on the agenda. She really just wanted to get it over with so she could get home and continue to enjoy the life she had built without him. She had tried to call him the day before, but he was busy and insisted she take another day to think and meet him on Saturday.

Despite his fancy suits and expensive car, Michael had chosen one of the most tacky places in Danville for their meeting, a karaoke club that was open twenty-four hours. Their bar service was limited to what was allowed under state law, but if someone wanted to sing a horrible rendition of "Sweet Caroline" while sober, they could do so at any time of the day. The place was called "The Birdcage," and Linda highly suspected Michael had chosen it because he and Linda had spent many an hour there before Candace was born. It had been the story of a one-time pop star and her number one fan, or so she thought. Number one fan of her money, at least. At some point, Linda was sure Michael had truly loved her, but then his wanderlust had taken over and things had gone downhill quickly.

Linda entered the club and sat down at the table Michael already occupied. "Let's make this quick. No."

Michael frowned at her. "Linda, I don't think you realize the scope of this opportunity."

"Oh, I do." Linda nodded. "And if the children want to pursue it someday, I have several record companies on speed dial. I'm not stupid. But they said no, and that's good enough for me. Not to mention they don't appreciate the fact that you only came back because you found a way to make money from them."

"That's not the only reason," Michael insisted. "I got too wrapped up in my work and neglected to maintain a relationship. I accept that, and I'm sorry. I was hoping this would give us a chance to work together as a family."

"I _have_ a family." Linda crossed her arms over her chest. "We work together just fine."

Michael nodded toward the karaoke stage. Not surprisingly, at eleven in the morning on a Saturday, there weren't any takers. "Come on, just one for old time's sake?"

Linda rolled her eyes. "Not interested." She pretended to peruse the selections however, just so she could claim not one "felt right," but then she saw it. And she just _had_ to do it, because she could. Thank heaven for a selection of more recent Broadway hits.

Linda took the microphone in her hand, watching the screen for the lyrics. She'd heard the song, when the girls from the jazz band had gone up to Chicago for a show Vivian insisted they "simply must see," and it was too perfect.

_"There's a fine, fine line_

_Between a lover and a friend._

_And there's a fine, fine line_

_Between reality and pretend._

_And you never know 'til you reach the top _

_If it was worth the uphill climb._

_There's a fine, fine line between love_

_And a waste of time."_

Linda paused between the verses, smiling, not looking directly at Michael just yet, though she was quite sure this wasn't what he had in mind when he suggested she sing.

_"There's a fine, fine line_

_Between a fairy tale and a lie._

_And there's a fine, fine line_

_Between 'you're wonderful' and 'goodbye.'_

_I guess if someone doesn't love you back,_

_It isn't such a crime._

_But there's a fine, fine line between love_

_And a waste of your time."_

Now Linda worked herself up to the bridge, turning to smile sweetly at Michael before pouring her heart into it.

_"And I don't have the time to waste on you anymore._

_I don't think that you even know what you're looking for!_

_For my own sanity, I have to close the door and walk away...."_

As Linda finished the song's final verse, she could nearly hear Michael sputtering over the music. The club's owner applauded fiercely, and Michael was the only other one in the place. Linda smiled at the owner, thanking him, and rejoined Michael at the table.

"Ouch, Linda," Michael commented.

"Well, I hoped you might take a hint," Linda said breezily. "It's not like I need a ride home."

"A ride!" Michael's face lit up with inspiration. "That's it. Come with me."

"Right, so you can kidnap me and use the children's cooperation for ransom?" Linda rolled her eyes. "I don't think so."

Michael shook his head. "No, of course not. Nothing like that." He paid for their sodas and tried to nudge Linda toward the door. "Just one more trip down memory lane. I promise, if that doesn't make you reconsider, I'll leave you alone."

Linda was dubious. "Can I get that in writing?"

"Linda, please," Michael begged. "I know just the place."

"Where?" Linda asked. If she agreed to this crazy plan – hell, if she was going to spend any more time in Michael's presence than absolutely necessary – she wanted details.

"Our place." Michael reached out to take Linda's hand, which she snatched back. "Remember it?"

Linda did remember. Early in their marriage, between tours and during downtime, there was an abandoned farm just outside of Danville that had an old, gnarled tree strong enough for climbing. Linda and Michael used to go there and climb the tree, looking at the Danville skyline and talking about their dreams. "Funny, I don't recall any part of those dreams we had involving you sleeping your way into becoming a record producer."

Michael ignored her. "Come on, Linda. Please." He met her eyes. "Just for a few minutes. I want you to feel the magic again. If you don't, I'll drop you off back here and we can go our separate ways again."

Linda sighed. If it would get Michael off her back, it was probably worth it. "Okay."

- - - - - - - -

Fifteen minutes later, Linda was most definitely not feeling the magic as Michael not only broke but shattered every traffic law he encountered. It was worse than Candace's driving lessons. At least she was still learning. "Michael, will you slow down? You're going sixty in a thirty-five!"

Michael shrugged. He didn't look malicious, just arrogant. But he always looked arrogant. "Calm down, Linda. This car performs at peak efficiency over fifty miles per hour. It doesn't like to go slow."

"The hell with what the car _wants_!" Linda scowled. "You do have control over it, you know. I – was that a yield sign?!"

"There was no one to yield to!"

It was going to be a long trip.

- - - - - - - -

That was it. Candace had been trying to resist the urge to bust her brothers more often, calling upon memories of cognitive therapy counseling sessions to recognize it as the habit it was to change her thinking accordingly. Sometimes she'd even ended up having fun with them. But this time, Phineas and Ferb took every chance she offered to them, and even if they didn't know about it, failed epically.

_Is this really as dangerous as I think it is?_

Well, it was a jungle gym as tall as their tree with a zip line that went across the street to Isabella's house, so, yes.

_What's the worst that could legitimately happen because of it?_

One of those goofballs could break their neck.

_Is it so bad that it can't wait until Mom comes home without my calling her?_

Well, yes, if one of them broke their neck. And, besides, Candace knew her mother was in a meeting with the sperm donor, so interrupting wouldn't be the end of the world. She whipped out her trusty cell phone, hitting the speed dial for her mother's number.

"Hi, Candace, what's up?" Linda answered.

"Mom!" Candace insisted. "You've got to come home! The boys have this crazy playground thing going on, with a zip line and everything!"

"I'll be home as soon as I can," Linda promised. "We're on our way back to the club so I can pick up my car and I'll be there."

"Oh, fine." Candace hung up, knowing she had to get to the club. Her mother wasn't going to spend more time with Michael than necessary, true, but Candace had a few things to say to the man herself before she dragged her mother home to bust the boys. At least Candace only had to worry about this insanity on the weekends while school was in session.

Candace yelled a warning out the window to the boys, who cheerfully ignored her, then grabbed her bike and helmet and pedaled off. She slowed down about a block ahead of the club, seeing an accident in the intersection. Some car had obviously run a red light and smashed into another one or been smashed into, depending on who the offender was. Emergency services were already there, and Candace glanced at the sidewalk, trying to figure out a way around it to be on her way without looking like a total gawker. The police didn't have to worry about her on that count. She wasn't big on blood.

A police officer standing on the sidewalk looked at her and motioned her forward, pointing to a path that took Candace around a fence of orange cones. Candace nodded and started forward slowly. Then she saw it. She was off her bike instantly and trying to force her way past the cones and toward the wrecked vehicle.

The police officer grabbed her in an instant, wrestling her back. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Candace struggled against him frantically. "That's my _mom_!"

The officer's grip became more gentle, but was still firm. "Honey, I can't let you in there. These guys know what they're doing."

His words practically bounced off of Candace. "No!" she shrieked, still pulling at the hands that restrained her. "That's my mom!"

- - - - - - - -


	4. You and Me Against the World

The next hour was pretty much a blur for Candace. The paramedics offered to let her ride along in the ambulance – in the front seat, of course, not in the back where they were treating her mother. Candace practically jumped in, abandoning her bike without a second thought. She had to stay with her mother. Candace's earliest memory was of a time not too long before Phineas was born, sitting on what was left of her mother's lap at the time, rocking together, listening to a lullaby.

_You and me against the world_

_Sometimes it seems like you and me against the world_

_When all the others turn their backs and walk away_

_You can count on me to stay_

"I'll stay with you," Candace whispered into a balled-up fist, feeling very much like that tiny four-year-old girl again, who needed to be held and assured her mommy wasn't going to leave. Tears streamed down her face and splashed into her lap.

"She's throwing a lot of numbers I don't like...pressure's way down. We're gonna have to wrap and run her." Candace didn't understand the paramedic's jargon as he talked to his partner, but she could tell from the urgency in his tone that it wasn't anything good. She wanted to bombard the paramedic who was driving with a million questions, but kept her mouth firmly shut, just in case answering a question would delay him even one second in getting them to the hospital.

Ferb was the only one Candace knew who'd lost their mother, and he had barely been more than a baby at the time. Candace didn't like to think that way, but she was scared and she couldn't help it. A medical assistant directed her to the lobby to wait. She paced the waiting area nervously, hoping to stave off full-blown hysteria. The last time she'd been in this ER waiting room for anything significant, it was Ferb, and she'd had to literally sit on Phineas to keep him from launching any personal investigations into their brother's condition. Oh, wait. Phineas and Ferb. They were at home. Still.

Candace pulled out her cell phone, hitting the second number on speed dial.

"Hello, Candace." Lawrence Fletcher always sounded so cheerful, and the incongruity of it right now was really messing with Candace's head. As if she needed anything else messing with her head. "What's up, darling?"

The words all came out in a rush, with Candace calling him "Daddy" at one point, which she hadn't done since she was ten. They went back and forth for a few minutes until Candace was able to convey to him the gist of what was going on. That was when Lawrence's cheerful tone faded into a sober, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

Candace's fingers latched in her hair, pulling at it – not enough to make it come out, just enough to give her hands something to do. She paced, muttering to herself. "Come on, Mom. Come on. Shouldn't have even been there. Shouldn't have had that stupid meeting with that stupid asshole...." Yes, her biological father was a Grade A asshole and Candace didn't care who overheard her to know it. She didn't even know what had happened to him in the accident. Maybe she should have felt bad about not caring, but she didn't, really, and couldn't spare the energy to work up any guilt. A quiet, dark part of her hoped he was dead, but the rest of her vocally argued that was too good for him. No, he needed to be made to answer for what he'd done.

Lawrence arrived within about a half hour, Phineas and Ferb in tow. Phineas was unusually quiet, his eyes wide and scared. He immediately ran to his sister for a hug, which was of course granted. Ferb seemed withdrawn. He slunk into a chair in the corner of the room, his arms wrapped around himself. Lawrence was at wit's end, but obviously trying to keep it together. Candace was right there with him.

Candace allowed herself to melt into her stepfather's embrace for a long moment, closing her eyes and taking comfort from the touch. This was what a father was supposed to be, not some name on a piece of paper. She tried to offer Ferb a hug, but he didn't appear to be particularly interested in having anyone hug him right then. He flinched at the light touch of a hand on his shoulder. Candace frowned, but then realized that as much as he was normally able to compensate for most of his autistic behaviors, at times like this, it was probably all he could do to keep from melting down entirely and start rocking in the corner. Candace wouldn't blame him if he did. In fact, she'd probably join him.

Something was missing – no, someone, Candace realized as she did a quick family headcount. She looked at her father. "Hey, where's Phineas?"

- - - - - - - -

_The song quoted is "You and Me Against the World," by Helen Reddy_


	5. Like a Surgeon

If there was one thing Phineas had learned in life, it was that if people weren't actively looking to stop you from doing something, you could generally get away with it. With all the people who had asked him and Ferb if they were too young to be undertaking a certain task, it was rare for anyone to try to stop them, simply because Phineas acknowledged it and moved on. The regulars eventually got used to it, and with others, Phineas followed the tried and true method of pretending like he belonged wherever he went. It was amazing how few people noticed someone who was entirely out of place, simply because that person was at ease with their surroundings.

Thus, Phineas had rather easily slipped through the emergency room double doors unnoticed, into the linen closet, and emerged in a scrub top probably sized for a particularly petite nurse. The staff would be trained to look for a young boy who appeared to be wandering – because, really, Phineas had no idea where he was going, just that he needed to check on his mom. However, a smaller-than-average nurse, even if he looked like a kid, no one was likely to comment on, if only because they were afraid of offending. He smoothed his hair back, taming it, and tried to look casual. It would have been easier if Phineas had brought Ferb along, because then they could have pulled their "world's tallest kid" routine and Phineas would have grabbed a pair of pants, too. Luckily, most of the staff were wearing different-colored scrubs, using those in the linen closet as backups, so Phineas' blue shorts didn't raise any eyebrows. This was almost too easy.

Phineas wandered by the nurses' station, locking a wheelchair and standing up on its seat, hoping he could scan the desk for any clues as to where they were treating his mother. Keeping it oh-so-cool, he leaned an elbow on the desk and smiled sweetly at the nurse closest to him. She opened her mouth, but then closed it again and smiled back. Yeah, she found something strange about his appearance, but she wasn't going to ask. "Hi – are you one of the new interns?"

Phineas nodded. Generally, he hated lying, but it was a necessary evil in this case.

The nurse brightened. "Oh, good. Dr. Khemani said I should send you all to the trauma conference room. Turn left down the hallway, and it's the third door on your right."

"Thank you." Trauma conference room. Perfect. As he hopped down and headed that way, he heard the nurse mutter, _"I swear they get younger every year."_

_- - - - - - - -_

The equipment sitting ready in the hall got fancier and more imposing as Phineas padded down the hall to the trauma wing and the curtained-off cubicles turned into rooms with doors. Phineas sincerely wished he had brought Ferb with him, but Ferb was retreating into his own world for a bit. It was how he coped when things got to be too much. Phineas could almost always bring him out of it, but if he wanted to slip back into the ER, he'd known he would have to move while no one was paying attention to him. If he waited too long, he'd be snagged and hugged, and as much as he actually wanted that right now, it would blow his chance to get the inside scoop. Candace had asked Phineas many times how he and Ferb "got away" with as much as they did. Phineas always told her the truth: he didn't know, frankly, because it never occurred to him he was getting away with anything. Mom and Dad never told them _not _to do any of the stuff they did.

_"They never thought to tell you not to because they never thought anyone would actually do that!"_ Candace insisted.

And, that, Phineas realized, was part of the "magic of childhood" adults always seemed to feel they were missing. You couldn't color inside the lines all the time; it took away from the art.

When he looked up, Phineas realized that most of the trauma "suites" as they were called – how euphemistic – had safety glass windows inset into the walls. They were above his line of sight, but he found that if he plastered himself against the opposite wall and angled his neck just right, he could get a partial glimpse inside. His eyes scanned for a familiar snatch of red hair; if he didn't see it, he moved on. He wasn't trying to be nosy, just check on his mom.

It was kind of funny how _not_ crazy the inside of the ER was. Phineas wasn't one to buy into television's account of anything, but if medical dramas were to be believed, emergency rooms had people running and shouting everywhere, patients screaming in the halls, and about half of people falling in love with the other half of everyone else. Here, people were obviously in a hurry, but doing so in an orderly fashion, and the only person screaming was the person announcing to all in earshot that she was a princess in her country and demanded to be treated as such here. Her voice was carrying all the way from the "Fast Track" unit for minor injuries and illnesses down the hall; Phineas had to give her credit for that.

Phineas had just about given up when he saw his mother's initials scribbled on a dry-erase board along with the notation "OR-2." The sign directing him to the trauma operating rooms down the hall explained that and Phineas had his answers. It wasn't the detailed report he was hoping for, but it was something. If she was in surgery, it wasn't good, but it meant she was alive and had a chance, or they wouldn't have had her there. He headed back toward the waiting room, shedding the scrub top and throwing it in a laundry bin along the way. The double doors that led to the waiting room had an activation button which was just out of his reach. Fortunately, this close to the exit, he could now use being a kid to his advantage. He let the fear that he'd been battling take over, turning wide eyes up on the nearest adult. "Um, hi, I think I'm lost. I was looking for the waiting room."

The man in scrubs nodded. "Yeah, you're on the wrong side of the doors for that, little buddy." He slapped the switch. "Here you go."

Phineas nodded and thanked the man, trotting up behind Candace just in time to hear her ask where he was. "Right here."

Candace turned around. "Oh, there you are." She glanced suspiciously at the double doors. "Am I going to have to sit on you again?"

Phineas shook his head. "Nope."

His sister's eyes narrowed, though she didn't really look all that annoyed. "You were already back there, weren't you?" she asked.

Phineas nodded.

"Well?" Candace prompted after a moment.

"OR," Phineas replied.

Candace frowned. "Crap."

"Yeah," Phineas agreed, nodding. He walked over to Ferb, climbing into the chair next to his brother. Ferb still had his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. He was definitely in coping mode. Most people realized the best thing to do when he got like this was let him sort it out, but Phineas was at least going to try to help. If Ferb truly wanted to be left alone, he'd let Phineas know, but the boys shared a special bond and sometimes Phineas could slip in under Ferb's outer defenses.

Many people had said over the years that Ferb lived in his own world, but Phineas always knew they were greatly underestimating his brother. Ferb had his own galaxy, with solar systems and moons orbiting all the planets. When he didn't feel like interacting with the rest of the world – or couldn't handle it, when he was extraordinarily stressed – there were a lot of places to hide. Phineas knew Ferb wasn't going to want to talk right now, so he leaned over to catch Ferb's attention, signing, _Talk to me._

Ferb's eyes met Phineas', though briefly. He sat up enough to free his hands to sign, _I've already lost one mother. I'm scared._

Phineas forced a smile for his brother's sake. _I'm scared, too, but they're taking good care of her. I'm sure she'll be all right._ He couldn't let any other thought take hold, or he'd be even more terrified than he already was.

"What are you doing?" The question wasn't as harsh coming from Candace as it normally was.

Phineas looked over his shoulder at his sister. "Talking to Ferb."

"No, the whole sign language thing."

"Um, it's sign language?" Phineas shrugged; he wasn't sure what she was getting at. Then he realized it had become so natural for them to sign when Ferb was out of sorts and not up to the effort of verbal communication that he barely thought about it anymore. "Oh. Yeah. It's ASL. Kind of weird to get your head around the grammar at first when it's a second language, but it's pretty awesome overall. We learned it so we could stay up late talking and not get caught, then...." He shrugged. "Don't use it much anymore, but it's handy sometimes." He couldn't even laugh at the unintentional pun; his cheer was definitely zapped.

"How long have you two known ASL?" Candace asked, studying the two of them carefully – for what, Phineas wasn't sure.

"We started learning it about two years ago," Phineas told her. "Why?"

Candace looked curious. "Once all this has calmed down, do you think you could teach me?"

Phineas smiled. "Of course."

_- - - - - - - -_

_Thank you all so much for the reviews! This chapter was pretty fun for me, despite the serious nature of the characters' concerns, since I'm a pediatric nurse, but I've done my time in the ER, too, and though I'm twenty-six, I still swear some of those interns don't look older than twelve. It was thinking of those "Doogie Howser"-looking interns that got this chapter inspired. _


	6. Don't Fear the Reaper

Linda Flynn was having a dickens of a time figuring out where she was and what was going on. One minute, she'd been yelling at Michael to pay attention to that red light and calling him all manner of choice names, then...nothing. Well, not nothing, exactly. There was a whole lot of white here. A part of her mind was chanting, _"Don't go toward the light,"_ repeatedly, but as everything around seemed to be "the light," Linda didn't seem to have a lot of choice in the matter. Finally, Linda thought she spotted a shadow on the horizon and trotted off in that direction. Something was better than nothing, she figured.

Linda peered over the edge curiously and recoiled at what she saw. She looked like crap. Bruised, swollen, all manner of tubes and wires surrounding her. There were wires attached to her chest and forehead, tubes snaking away from her mouth, nose, arms, and other places tubes had no business being. She was absolutely going to kill Michael. Provided _he_ hadn't killed _her_.

Lawrence was sitting by the bed, holding her hand. He released it to stroke her hair, whispering, "Oh, love, please hold on. I don't know that I'm strong enough to go through this again." His hand trailed down to her hand again, squeezing gently.

Linda thought she felt a ghost of the sensation around her hand wherever she was. It might have been wishful thinking, but Linda rather hoped it wasn't. At least she didn't feel anything else. It looked pretty painful. Linda flexed her hand, trying to respond to her husband and tell him she knew he was there and appreciated it, but back in the real world – at least that was how she was thinking of it – there was nothing. Well, it was worth a try.

"Biscuit?" a cheerful Scottish accent offered. A strange offer, to be sure, but Linda was glad for the company. She turned around to see a woman about her own age holding out a cookie.

"Um...thanks." Linda took the cookie, biting into it tentatively. Chocolate chip. Not bad, either. She assessed the newcomer. Her hair was tucked up under a knit hat and she wore a cute matching shawl. A pair of tiny feet poked out from under the shawl. "Is that your baby?"

The woman smiled. "Oh, no, I'm just watching the wee bairn while her mum's occupied." She pulled back her shawl and unwrapped the sling that held a very young baby girl against her chest. "This is Giselle."

Linda smiled; the baby couldn't have been any more than a week old and she was precious. It didn't take much coaxing to get her to take Giselle into her arms. The infant had a tuft of fuzzy brown hair and wide blue eyes that focused intently on Linda. Linda's smile faded, however, as she realized why she was here and why Giselle must be also. "Oh, the poor thing. What happened to her this young?"

Their companion sighed sadly. "Even younger, I'm afraid. Things here aren't always the same as in their world down there. If the wee ones never make it to term, they often appear newly born – much easier to cuddle that way. If they've been here long enough, some even decide to appear as they would if they'd grown up."

"So her mother's still alive?" Linda asked. Technically, she supposed she was as well, but what she'd seen below wasn't much of a life. She hoped she would heal up quickly.

"Aye, for now." The woman nodded. "We all have to go sometime, though hopefully she won't become a permanent resident of my world too soon."

"So you're dead." Linda was trying to wrap her brain around all this.

That earned her a smile. "As a doornail, alas. This here's a waiting room of sorts, for those who haven't crossed over yet. Where Giselle and I stay, it's a lot nicer, with better views. Nobody stays here all that long, so there hasn't been much of a call to decorate."

"Are you my guide, then?" Linda asked.

The woman snorted. "So it would seem. Figures I'd end up pulling that duty on this side, too."

"Why?" Linda asked. "Why you?"

The woman reached up, pulling her hat off. Her waist length green hair tumbled free, falling to frame her face, and now Linda was able to recognize the woman she'd seen in Lawrence's old pictures. "Hi. I'm Libby."

As surreal – and nice, actually – as it was to be meeting Lawrence's first wife, Linda frowned a little. "You couldn't have told me that upfront?"

Libby shrugged. "I always did like a good bit of showmanship. I don't get to do this very often. Usually, this lady named Leah does the crossovers, but if she's busy, a friend of the family gets the honors."

"Okay." Linda looked down at the contended newborn in her arms. "How does Giselle figure into things?"

Libby smiled. "Oh, we take good care of the bairns here. If they don't have a parent waiting, usually a family friend takes charge, but we all pass them around. They need all the cuddling they can get, and most of us are happy to oblige. There are a few Grumpy Guses, naturally, but we don't pay them much mind. Usually, they're just missing someone, and not handling it as well as the others."

"So how do 'the others' handle it?" Linda asked. She presumed that included Libby.

"Keeping tabs on our loved ones, helping out the new arrivals.... You'd be surprised how much there is to when you're dead." Libby looked speculative. "Including the occasional practical joke. We can't interfere much in the affairs of the living, thanks to both laws of physics and decorum, but the occasional bit of harmless mischief isn't out of the question."

"Don't tell me," Linda said, deadpan, "you all are the ones stealing lone socks out of the dryer."

Libby laughed. "No, not our department. I'm still trying to figure that one out, actually. Let's just say, though, that dreadful 'New Coke' nonsense that popped up awhile back was my father's idea of humor. He always did prefer Pepsi."

"And I suppose you're the one who encouraged Lawrence's father to take up skateboarding?" Linda joked, remembering the stories Lawrence had told of Libby's delight at her father-in-law's daredevil antics.

Libby held her hands up in mock innocence. "Oh, no, the old man was a wild one long before I ever came along." She leaned closer, conspiratorially. "But if anyone asks you how he managed to find the skateboard Ferb left in England, I know nothing."

Linda grinned. She was liking Libby more by the moment. In another life, they could have been friends. Perhaps in the afterlife, they would be. She sighed, stroking Giselle's soft hair, and handed her back to Libby. "I suppose you'd better get this little cutie back to her keeper. Am I coming with you or what?"

Libby shrugged. "It's not something either one of us really has any say over at this point. I'm meeting my mother for lunch – I'll catch up with you afterward if you stay."

"What if I don't?" Linda asked.

Libby regarded her for a minute, her expression tender. "Then keep taking such good care of my boys. I'm still holding you to tea sometime, but I've got all the time in the universe to wait."

Linda returned Libby's smile, stepping forward to hug her. "Tea it is, then."

Libby blinked quickly, her eyes misty for a moment, then reached under her shawl and produced another cookie. Linda wasn't entirely sure where she was keeping them. "Here, take another. They're small."

"Thanks." Linda turned to glance back at the scene below. When she glanced over her shoulder, Libby and Giselle were gone, so she walked to the edge for the best view.

A nurse was approaching Lawrence. "Mr. Fletcher, we need to take her back to surgery now."

Lawrence nodded. "Now, I know you said only two at a time, but can the children see her for just a minute first...in case...?"

The nurse's tone was soft and understanding. "Of course, but you'll have to be quick."

"I understand."

Linda continued to watch as Lawrence led Candace, Ferb, and Phineas in. They each appeared to be handling things in their own way, but Linda hadn't expected them to be doing well. They weren't.

Phineas kissed her cheek gently. "Love you, Mom." He was always the talkative one, but now, he didn't seem to be able to find anything else to say. That was okay; it was more than enough.

Candace was crying too hard to say much of anything. She put her hand on Linda's arm, closing her eyes for a long moment, then stepped away, looking reluctant to do so.

It was Ferb who surprised Linda the most. He was never much for outward emotion, but Linda understood him and it worked out for them both. But he brushed a kiss against Linda's forehead, then paused to whisper, "Please don't leave us."

Watching her family like this about broke Linda's heart, and she wanted nothing more than to gather them all in a group hug and smother them with kisses. Unfortunately, like Libby had said, Linda didn't have much say in the matter.

The scene below grew fuzzy, and Linda looked around to see if there was anyone else who appeared to be having the same problem. She saw only a petite woman in a severely cut purple pantsuit. "Hi."

"Hello." Linda studied this latest arrival. "Can I help you?"

That got a laugh out of the woman. "Yeah, about that. No. Not really. I can't really help you either, though you seem nice enough. I'm Leah."

Oh. Linda frowned. "So...I'm dead."

Leah shrugged. "Only mostly. Of course, you know what they say about that. Anyhow, I'm supposed to give you the tour while the powers that be determine which way it's gonna go. Don't worry, if you live, this will all seem like nothing more than a crazy dream."

"How comforting," Linda muttered sarcastically.

"Sorry." Leah reached behind her back, producing a small, grease-stained bag from out of nowhere. "French fry?"

Linda stared at her disbelievingly. "What is it with you people and food?"

"It makes a great welcome gift," Leah explained, shrugging, "and Libby swiped most of my cookies."

_- - - - - - - -_

_And so it continues. But don't panic! I have tomorrow off, so I shall be updating very soon. Fair warning: it starts to get a bit dark in the next couple of chapters. Many say that with the constant flow of time, if you stepped on the wrong (or right) bug, you could alter the fate of the universe. This isn't quite so grand as all that, but the characters get to go on a little trip down the path of what could be. Then someone comes along to put right what once went wrong, to borrow from Quantum Leap (no crossover, alas ;) )... _


	7. If I Could Turn Back Time

Lawrence sank back against the wall of the surgical waiting room as they took his wife back into the operating room. Back. Her second major surgery in less than twenty-four hours, and she was already weak. But she'd begun bleeding somewhere, and while it was unclear if she'd survive the surgery, she would definitely die without it. "I hope I've done the right thing."

Candace put her hand on his arm. "There wasn't any other choice. If you didn't sign the consent, she was going to die. At least there's a chance, now." She didn't sound very optimistic.

The boys were huddled together in the waiting room, signing back and forth, comforting one another. Lawrence was glad for the bond they shared, because he should have been the one reassuring them. He should have been, but he was at loose ends, himself.

At least he'd had time with Linda beforehand, if things went pear-shaped. When Libby had died, she was gone before Lawrence even got to the hospital. He had been able to feel the warmth of Linda's hand in his and tell her how much he loved her. Lawrence desperately hoped that wasn't the last time.

When a surgeon approached them later, much too soon for the operation to be over, a grim expression on his face, Lawrence's heart fell into his stomach. Before the doctor said a word, Lawrence knew that for the second time, the great love of his life was gone.

_- - - - - - - -_

_Twenty years later...._

"Mom!" Amanda Johnson called, pounding on her mother's bedroom door for emphasis.

Candace Flynn groaned and rolled over, squinting at the alarm clock on the nightstand. "Mandy, could you wait maybe two minutes after seven AM before dragging me out of bed?"

"But I've got a class at eight and I need to borrow money for lunch!"

Candace sighed, tumbling out of bed and grabbing her purse. She fished a suitable amount of cash for lunch out of her wallet, opened the door a crack to pass it to Amanda, then shut the door and stumbled back to bed. She worked evenings and she preferred to acknowledge only one seven o'clock a day. This wasn't it. "I thought they moved out when they turned eighteen," she muttered into her pillow. She loved her daughter dearly, but Amanda was nineteen, going on twenty, and while Candace was hardly in a rush to force her out of the nest, she couldn't help but entertain a few fantasies about her baby bird learning to fly.

The night her mother had died, Jeremy had come over to the house to comfort Candace. Desperate clinging had given way to even more desperate groping, and before long, the clothes were off. It was hardly how Candace had dreamed her first time would go, but it was what it was. And while it only takes once to get pregnant, based on the timing, Candace figured it was probably the third or fourth time. Whenever it had happened, Candace found herself sixteen and pregnant and afraid to burden her father further, given the trouble he was already having coping. Candace knew she had only herself to blame for getting pregnant, but it was Michael's fault she didn't have a mother to guide her.

The music magazines were all over Linda Flynn's death, once word was officially released. Candace kept them in a box at the bottom of her closet – morbid, she conceded, but they were strangely important to her. The headlines varied - "Eighties Sensation Lindana Dead at 44," "Tragic End for One-Hit Wonder" - but the one Candace cherished was "Record Producer Prosecuted in Lindana's Death." Candace and Phineas had no qualms about testifying at their father's trial. Michael did jail time on vehicular homicide charges thanks to his reckless driving, but it was a small comfort to her family. Yes, the justice system had come through, but none of it would bring Linda back.

Lawrence had been even quieter and more withdrawn for awhile after the autopsy results came back. No one really had any doubts about what killed Linda, but it was procedure when a criminal case was ongoing. Eventually, Candace had found them hidden away and sneaked a peek, wondering what could have affected Lawrence so thoroughly. She knew it wasn't just pregnancy hormones that had her bawling. Her mother had been pregnant – early enough for her not to know or notice anything was amiss, but she'd miscarried due to the trauma of the accident and surgery attempting to save her life. The blood thinners needed to keep the clots from broken bones from traveling to her lungs or brain had caused massive bleeding after the miscarriage, bringing about the need for the second surgery, which she had been too weak to survive. Candace had slipped the folder back where she'd found it and had a good, long cry. She and her mother could've been pregnant together. Better yet, Candace could have _not_ been pregnant and been focused on helping prepare the house for the arrival of her new kid sister or brother. The next morning, Candace marched down to the jail during visiting hours only long enough to tell Michael, "Fuck you," to his face.

In the first months after Amanda's birth, it almost seemed like things were gonna be okay. Jeremy was a great dad, and Amanda was precious. It was hard work, finishing high school and raising a baby, but they both did it, and on Candace's eighteenth birthday, they got married. Unfortunately, the strain of being teenage parents and young newlyweds got to them both. The quiet, snuggly moments got farther apart and the arguments got more frequent. The stress got Candace's OCD rearing its ugly head again, which she knew made her difficult to live with. Candace and Jeremy divorced a few weeks after Candace's twenty-first birthday. It was an amicable split, and Jeremy was very involved in their daughter's life, but it took a long time for Candace to move past the hurt of watching her dream die and get on with her life.

Candace was hardly the only one affected by the tragedy of Linda's death. Phineas and Ferb's fantastic inventions just stopped. Even on the weekends. They'd curl up under the tree and read, sometimes skateboard around the neighborhood, but the drive to make the biggest and best things around was gone. Phineas was a computer game programmer now and Ferb wrote technical manuals, both noble and intelligent professions, but they were capable of so much more. Candace could hardly call them on it, though. Her dreams of becoming a professional singer had faded like so many others. In the wake of her mother's death, there had been plenty of offers, but Candace wasn't going to cash in on tragedy. She wanted to make it on her own merits, and with Amanda to raise, there just wasn't time. She took a quick course in medical assisting to make a living, going to college once Amanda was in elementary school and getting her nursing degree. Candace worked on a women's post-surgical unit; she liked it and it paid the bills.

Ever since her mother died, Candace couldn't shake the feeling that none of this was supposed to happen. She loved her daughter, but she also remembered her future self once telling her about the "good future" they had to save. Amanda was younger, with siblings. Her mother was alive. Her future self had been married. Candace knew that everything, every day, could alter history, but that little bit she heard weighed heavily on Candace every day.

It was her day off, and once she got up, Candace wandered down to the Natural Science museum to see their new exhibit on natural disasters. She'd heard it was great, but on the way there, Candace passed the old time machine. The one Phineas and Ferb had fixed. Candace paused, struck with inspiration, and whipped out her cell phone. "Phineas? Get down here, and bring Ferb if you can. We've got a little something to do today."

_- - - - - - - -_

_One sad future, yes, but stay tuned for things to improve!_


	8. Time Cast a Spell on You

The beauty of being a computer game programmer was that you could spend literally hours a day playing games and get paid for it. Not only did you have to test your own games to check for bugs, you had to make sure to stay on top of what the competition was offering. It was a pretty awesome job.

One of the other advantages was that it was pretty easy to get away when necessary, unless there was a huge release coming up. And, so, when Phineas Flynn got a call from his sister, who requested his presence at the Natural History Museum as soon as possible, he finished the level he was working on, saved his progress, and let his co-workers know he was heading out for a bit.

Phineas honestly had no idea what Candace was up to, but it was a slow day and a trip to the museum might provide inspiration for some educational game. It had to be better than replaying the same level of the same game for the fiftieth time, because someone in Quality Control insisted there was some bug in it. Phineas was beginning to suspect the error in question was between the chair and the keyboard.

As he headed out of the building, instead of heading toward the parking garage to get his vehicle, Phineas turned the corner and headed down the street. Ferb was working a block away, on the third floor of the "Doofenshmirtz Evil, Incorporated" building. There never seemed to be any actual evil coming from the building, despite its name. Ferb worked for a small company tasked with writing technical manuals. His job was to take a complicated piece of technology and dumb down the lingo so anyone with an elementary school education could understand. It seemed awfully boring to Phineas, but Ferb seemed to think the building's landlord had a hot daughter and, as Ferb noted, "Sometimes there are explosions."

Phineas strolled through the front door of the "Davidson Non-Evil Printing, Incorporated" offices – the owner fancied himself a comedian – and up to Ferb's desk. "What's up?"

Ferb shrugged, his ponytail falling over one shoulder. "Trying to explain quantum physics to small children and idiots. Don't you have a job?"

Phineas laughed. "Yeah, but Candace wants us to meet her down at the Natural Science Museum."

Ferb paused his work, looking speculative. "I hear the natural disasters exhibit is good."

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, I think that's why Candace headed down there. Wanna go?"

"Sure." Ferb had a schedule nearly as flexible as Phineas'. "I suppose the idiots can wait."

Phineas chuckled as a mild explosion of some sort shook the building as they left. "So you weren't kidding about the explosions, huh?"

Ferb shook his head. "No, not really."

_- - - - - - - -_

Candace tried to be patient while she waited for her brothers to arrive, but her mind was reeling with possibilities. Technically, she could have used the time machine by herself, but the boys knew a lot more about science than she did. For something this important, she knew they would be willing to help her.

Candace wandered toward the fossils exhibit while she waited, so as not to around any suspicion. Her heart leaped up as she saw her brothers ambling down the hall. These days, Phineas usually wore a rock band t-shirt over ripped jeans, his shaggy red hair sticking out in nearly ever direction possible. Ferb's hair was a couple inches past his shoulders and usually pulled back in a ponytail, his wardrobe conservative. He still spoke as little as possible to get a job done, unless he was around his family. Candace would take that any day, though. After their mother's death, Ferb had gone through a phase – lasting nearly two years – where the only words he spoke to anyone other than Phineas related to his schoolwork. Eventually, he'd just started talking again, and the family had breathed a sigh of relief.

Their father had always been more than a little eccentric, but it got worse after the accident. Some of his oddities were still charming, some were worrisome. As Candace always told anyone who asked how her father was doing, "Some days are better than others." But that wouldn't be a problem much longer if Candace got her way. She hurried over to her brothers as soon as she spotted them.

"Hey." Candace waved, bouncing on her toes a little.

Ferb rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, subtle but noticeable to Candace, and waved.

"Hi." Phineas glanced around. "So, why are we here?"

Candace led them down the hall, gesturing toward the time machine. "Remember this?"

Phineas smiled, looking reminiscent. "Yeah, those were some good times. What about it?"

"Still remember how it works?" Candace asked.

"Of course." Phineas' eyebrows furrowed together. "Why? Where did you want to go?"

"Victorian England," Candace replied sarcastically. "I've been reading _Wuthering Heights_."

"Okay," Phineas agreed.

Candace rolled her eyes. Even after all these years, even though time and events had jaded him somewhat, her sarcasm still sailed right over Phineas' head. "No, Danville. Twenty years ago."

"Okay," Phineas repeated. Then, suddenly, he and Ferb both got it at the same time. Their eyes lit up, and they exchanged a smile. "Let's do it."

"Thought you'd say that." Candace hugged them both briefly. She knew, at least in theory, that altering the past could create drastic changes in the future, but this was worth it. Somehow, Candace doubted Danville was going to turn into a glimmering cesspool if Linda Flynn's life were to be spared. Besides, she remembered that in the future she'd been told of, her mother was alive. Candace didn't need any convincing, but that knowledge didn't hurt. "All right, let's get a plan."

"What plan?" Ferb asked. "We get in the time machine, we set it, we save Mum. I see nothing so complex about that."

Candace laughed, hugging him again. "God, I love you guys."

Ferb smiled. "The feeling's mutual, but there's no need for a scene. We have work to do."

The siblings waited until no one was around – fortunately, the time machine wasn't much of an attraction anymore – and slipped under the velvet rope, climbing in. Ferb dialed in the time and place they needed; apparently, they had tricked it out after their initial adventure. Before Phineas threw the lever to take them back in time, he paused and looked at Candace.

"What?" Candace asked, admittedly a bit impatient.

"If we do find the sperm donor, and I were to accidentally on purpose damage his person mildly, would you be willing to look the other way?" His grin was positively devilish.

Candace hugged him with one arm. "Damn straight. Now, let's go."

- - - - - - - -

_Twenty years ago..._

They materialized in the back parking lot of The Birdcage, a notably horrible karaoke bar, known by reputation even to those who had never stepped foot in the place. Candace worried it was a little obvious to have the time machine sitting there, but Ferb hit a button on a remote and it vanished from sight. Candace shook her head. "Is there anything you guys didn't add to that?"

"Cupholders," Ferb deadpanned.

The trio knew they couldn't walk in there together, as it would be far too suspicious, but they didn't have to. Candace scanned the parking lot for Michael's car and pointed it out to Ferb while Phineas walked inside to keep an eye on things.

Candace watched as Ferb pulled a few small tools from his pocket, cut the hood release cable on Michael's car, and lifted the hood. He scanned the engine and removed a couple of spark plugs. "Let's see him go anywhere now." He examined one of the plugs closely. "He needs a tune-up anyway." Ferb tossed the spark plugs into a nearby trash can and closed the hood, smiling smugly.

Candace looked at him in admiration. "I sure am glad you're on our side."

_- - - - - - - -_

Phineas looked around as he entered the bar, spotting his mother immediately. He paused, smiling. He wanted to snatch her up in a hug, but that would have been more than a little creepy from her perspective, considering her Phineas was eleven. He watched her arguing with Michael, giving as good as she got. _You go, Mom. _He didn't have to actually do much, just make sure to stall them if they tried to leave until Ferb could take care of the car.

Phineas wandered up to the bar, ordering a Coke, as he didn't want to have to produce an ID card from the future. He didn't plan to drink it, anyhow. He casually sat down at the table next to his mother and Michael, and just as Michael leaned back in his chair, Phineas "accidentally" nudged it with his foot. It slipped out from under Michael, and Phineas pretended to be shocked, dropping his drink – right on top of Michael. _Checkmate. And you didn't even know we were playing._

Michael sputtered, picking himself up off the floor. He glared at Phineas.

Phineas shrugged, looking as innocent and apologetic as possible. "I am _so_ sorry."

"Whatever," Michael huffed. He stood up, motioning with his head toward the door. "Come on, Linda. Let's go."

"Go?" she asked. "Where are _we_ going? I already told you, there's no business and there's no deal." When Michael wasn't looking, she turned toward Phineas, mouthing, _Thank you_.

Phineas gave her a thumbs-up, turning to stroll out of the bar. So far, it seemed his work here was done, especially as his mother rolled her eyes and walked past Michael. Candace and Ferb were hanging around outside, pretending to be casually considering going in. Phineas followed his mother out the door, maintaining a casual distance and grinned at his siblings as she got in her red station wagon and drove off. There were high-fives all around.

"We did it!" Candace squealed. Then she frowned. "Or did we? Shouldn't we, like, disappear if we changed the future?"

"Theoretically," Ferb agreed. "But we may also exist in our future as we are, however unlikely that may be."

"I guess the only way to find out is to go back," Phineas replied. "It may be as simple as returning the time machine, since it would be missing from the future."

"I'll never understand quantum physics," Candace murmured as she climbed back into the time machine once Ferb had dropped the cloak of invisibility.

- - - - - - - -

_Twenty years later..._

Jeremy Johnson was standing in front of an empty exhibit space, wondering what the Natural History Museum planned on putting there, when suddenly, a strange-looking device popped in from out of nowhere. "Hey, awesome!" Jeremy grinned at the disaffected teenager standing beside him. "What'd you think of that, Amanda?"

His daughter shrugged. "It was pretty cool, I guess."

"Too bad your brothers weren't here to see it," Jeremy said. They were off with Candace and her parents elsewhere in the museum.

"Yeah." Amanda sighed dramatically. "They never do _anything_."

_- - - - - - - -_

_Twenty years ago..._

Linda chuckled as she drove home; she hadn't wanted to meet with Michael, but seeing him sprawled on the floor, covered in Coke had been totally worth it. The man responsible looked achingly familiar, but Linda couldn't place him. Maybe she just _wanted_ to know him, the way he managed so effortlessly to make Michael look like a fool. Linda doubted that was the last she'd be hearing from her ex-husband, but she was trying to take one day at a time.

Linda lifted a hand from the steering wheel to wave as she saw Candace speeding by on her bike. Candace turned her head, then tried to turn around suddenly. Unfortunately, she threw the brakes on too hard and went sailing over the handlebars to crash land several yards away.

"Oh, my God." Linda immediately pulled onto the side of the road, bolting out of her car. "Candace!" Her feet barely touched the ground as she raced to her daughter's side.

Candace groaned, rolling over onto her back. "Um, ow."

"Candace!" Linda looked her over, and satisfied that there appeared to be no major injuries, pulled Candace into a tight hug. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

"Yeah, I'm all for avoiding a repeat experience," Candace murmured, hugging her back. She was covered in a multitude of scrapes and plenty of bruises would surely follow, but mercifully, nothing seemed to be broken.

Linda gasped as she saw a portion of Candace's helmet that had been gouged by a tree root on the ground, then hugged Candace all the tighter. "Thank God for that helmet." She stroked Candace's cheek lightly. "Now where on earth were you going in such a hurry?"

"I, ah...you know, never mind." Candace shook her head. "It's probably going to be gone by the time we get home anyway."

Linda shook her head, sighing, but gingerly took Candace's helmet off and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "Come on. Let me get your bike into the car and we'll get you home and patched up."

Candace nodded. "Thanks, Mom."

"Of course." Linda looked at the helmet again and tried not to think about how much worse it could have been. "I'm just glad you're all right."

- - - - - - - -

_And cue the warm fuzzies, LOL. Hopefully there will be a lot more of those in the coming chapters!_


	9. Baby, Baby

If this was a preview of what menopause was going to be like, Linda wanted no part of it. Not that she really had a choice, but she was perfectly content one moment, irritable the next, and tired constantly. Worse, "Auntie Flo" was nowhere to be found. Linda could handle a few days of this a month, but she'd been feeling like this for weeks. But she wasn't getting old. No, definitely not. She was simply maturing. It made her feel better to think of it that way.

Nevertheless, while at the drugstore to pick up some ointment for Candace's scrapes – the poor thing – Linda snatched a box of pregnancy tests from the shelf and dropped them in the basket with the rest of her purchases. Just in case. She told herself she was being silly and she should just accept that she was getting older, but she bought them anyway.

The first test showed the faintest of pink tinge on what would have been the rest of a "plus" sign. The second was slightly more convincing. The third – after Linda re-read the directions and realized she was reading them two minutes too soon in her impatience – was very clear. Linda blinked at it, and the two others in the trash can, which were quite obviously positive by now as well. She sank down onto the side of the bathtub, unsure how to feel about the situation. It wasn't really a bad thing, but at forty-four, hardly what she expected, either. How was Lawrence going to react? And the children? And with all those unanswered questions, was it just anxiety that had her heart beating faster or was it perhaps the tiniest bit of excitement?

Overwhelmed by the moment, Linda got up and splashed some water on her face, then took a deep breath before heading out of the bathroom. Hopefully no one had noticed her sneaking back in there for the repeated tests; she hadn't said anything because she felt so silly in the first place. She walked out of the bathroom, still dazed, and nearly collided with her husband.

"Oh, there you are, darling." Lawrence smiled, putting a hand on her arm. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gotten off to."

Linda opened her mouth, about to tell him they needed to talk, but she found herself shaking her head and laughing nervously, tripping over her tongue. The chuckles dissolved into sobs, and before she knew it, Linda was clutching onto Lawrence, telling him everything.

It wasn't exactly smooth. It was rather embarrassing, actually. But it did get the job done.

- - - - - - - -

Lawrence wasn't entirely sure what to think as Linda burst into tears, so he settled for pulling her into a hug and hoping she didn't catch on to the fact that he had no idea what was going on. She held him tightly, murmuring into his shoulder while she composed herself, lifting her head just in time for Lawrence to hear her say, "I'm pregnant."

Lawrence stared at her blankly for a moment. "Well, that's...unexpected."

Linda nodded, leading him down the hall to their bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed, sighing heavily. "I know. Believe me, I know."

Lawrence certainly hadn't expected to be adding another member to their family at this stage, but given that it was going to happen regardless of what they'd planned, he saw no reason to fight it. It probably helped that a part of his brain was still in shock. "I suppose we'll have to get the spare room into shape."

"Yeah." Linda nodded, looking a bit numb herself.

Lawrence pulled her back into his arms, pressing a kiss into her hair. Once he had time to process, he'd no doubt be a nervous wreck, worrying about her health and the baby's. For the moment, he enjoyed the protective cushion his psyche was providing. "We'll be all right, love."

She looked up at him, snuggling closer. "You really think so?"

"We've always come out on top before." Lawrence smiled at her. "Besides, we've got built-in babysitters, now don't we?"

Linda laughed at that, as he'd hoped she would. "So it's back to binkies and bottles for us, then?"

"So it would seem," Lawrence agreed, though he didn't have the faintest idea what a binkie was. It was probably some strange cultural thing. He would ask Linda later. For now, he held her, and that seemed to be enough.


	10. Gimme Some Truth

So, it both sucked and rocked being one big series of scrapes from head to toe. Candace had, unfortunately, figured it out the hard way. It sucked on so many levels: the pain, the icky oozing, the bandages that did not look cute with her outfit in the least, the explaining about a gazillion times that she'd had an accident on her bike and it looked worse than it was. Then there was the better, "awesome sauce" level: Jeremy. He hurried to carry her books and generally fawn over her all day. Candace was not complaining. She had expected Stacy to participate in the "Help a Girlfriend Out" program, the way Candace had when Stacy sprained her ankle last year, and Stacy had, but there were no complaints whatsoever about Jeremy stepping into the role. None at all. As Candace had hurried to assure Jeremy, both girls looking at each other and making a high-pitched noise that sounded suspiciously like _"Squee!"_ was _not_ a complaint.

Candace was limping her way home with her blond Adonis and Stacy, when her cell phone announced a text message. Stacy cheerfully retrieved the phone from Candace's purse and glanced at it. "Message from your mom."

"Read it to me, could you?" Candace wasn't even trying to milk it. She had gone to the school nurse to have her bandages changed before last period, because they had gotten nasty over the course of the day, and the nurse had been a bit overzealous on her hands. She literally couldn't manipulate her fingers enough to open the phone, much less punch buttons. This situation would have to be remedied once she got home. Fortunately, Candace had last period with Jeremy and it was study hall. He was by far the most interesting and beautiful thing she'd ever studied.

Stacy nodded. "Family meeting tonight – tell P and F." She frowned. "Doesn't your mother know she can send copies of the same message to everyone?"

Candace rolled her eyes. "Hard telling. She and my dad were acting so weird yesterday. Like, all day. Mom kind of hovered for awhile, but...yeah, pretty much since Saturday afternoon, they've been talking quietly and acting...well, _weird_."

"Weird," Stacy said.

Candace nodded. "Yeah, totally."

Jeremy laughed. "Parents. Who can understand 'em?"

"Who, indeed?" Candace breathed. Yeah, she was _so_ going to marry Jeremy someday.

- - - - - - - -

"Sometimes," Ferb told his brother as they walked home from school, "it occurs to me that my higher level of functioning than many autistics puts me at a disadvantage."

"How so?" Phineas asked. "I mean, you'd still be awesome if you weren't, but it's cool that you are."

"Most times, yes," Ferb agreed, "but I delivered a note for my teacher to the special needs classroom today." He thought about it, closing his eyes briefly and bringing the image to mind. "Did you know they have beanbag chairs?"

"Really?" Phineas asked, looking suitably impressed.

Ferb nodded. "Yes." He _liked_ beanbag chairs.

Phineas looked thoughtful. "Maybe you could get into one of those classes in middle school next year."

Ferb shook his head. "I'm afraid our reputations precede us in the Danville public school system. We could use the school band to reunite the Baljeetles, though."

"That'll work." Phineas skipped for a few steps, but stopped when their cell phones both rang. Ferb's was a mix version of Candace's song "Queen of Mars," made for her demo reel and inspired by their trip through the portal. Of course, in the liner notes, they changed a few of the details and circumstances, as Candace had insisted that she was _not_ going to let her brothers and their crazy schemes ruin her reputation. Phineas had his ring tone set to Jonathan Coulton's "That Spells DNA," and the boys smiled at one another. Those were the ring tones they had set for Candace. They both pulled out their phones. Ferb looked at the message on his phone. "_Re: Mom -- fam mtg. 2Nite" _He understood the need to conserve space to express one's ideas in 160 characters or less, but Ferb had never been able to understand why people insisted upon using certain "chat-speak" words, where it wasn't that much more difficult to type the word properly. The occasional article dropped, Ferb could understand, as they weren't entirely necessary, but some texters seemed to have lost track of the English language entirely. Then, many people labored under the delusion that Ferb was unable to or simply didn't talk at all, so what did he know about "normal?"

For the most part, neurotypical people confused Ferb, and he was able to get along with his family and friends as well as he despite their so-called "normal" profiles because of their eccentric natures. Candace was an exception to the "normal" rule; since her OCD was diagnosed, she and Ferb had come to understand each other a lot better. No one would ever be able to duplicate the bond he had with Phineas, but Ferb had come to see Candace in a new light once everyone realized she really _did_ have something more going on than some deep-seated need to get her brothers in trouble. It was her way of trying to protect them, and that made it easier for Ferb to accept when she couldn't resist the urge to bust. She was trying, but it still happened. Phineas had never seemed to mind, but he often lived in a cheerful utopia where everyone was essentially good and working to bring out the best in others. Unfortunately, that only made it that much more of a rude awakening when his happy bubble was shattered, such as the Christmas debacle and Michael's return.

Ferb assumed three things from Candace's text, either of which he was willing to accept could be wrong. First, Stacy had typed it, as the bandages on Candace's fingers would have made it difficult to manipulate even the QWERTY keyboard of her latest favorite phone – and Candace generally had the decency to type something grammatically correct if the message was going to Ferb. Second, both Ferb and Phineas had received the message, which meant that either on her own or under Candace's direction, Stacy had considered that the brothers might not be together. They usually were, but it was nice when someone realized he was a separate entity. Ferb might have been quiet by nature, but he thought a lot. Sometimes far more than was strictly necessary. And, third – the more disturbing assumption – Michael was involved in this somehow, if Mum was calling a family meeting. In the last case, Ferb rather hoped assumption would result in its oft-quoted end, "making an ass of 'you' and 'me.'" (Even in his mind, Ferb simply couldn't think of the letter "u" as a stand-in for the pronoun "you.")

Ferb had only ever seen Michael in passing, and not in the family photo albums. His mum had gone through and systematically cropped Michael out of every photo from Candace's babyhood, and he had run off before Phineas' birth. Ferb's earliest memories were of a single-parent family, but he could hardly blame his mother for dying when he was very young. A twist in time, aided by a certain machine at the natural history museum, had allowed him to see his mother, hug her, have a memory to hold to. He would always be grateful for that. But Ferb could come up with no rationalization to explain Michael's behavior, other than to scoff that at least he kept up his rather lucrative child support payments. He could certainly afford them, given the search Ferb had done on the record company Michael headed, "Rinky Dink Productions." Michael doubtless thought it was a clever way to compensate for being saddled with a last name like Humperdink – thank heavens Mum had the foresight to keep the Flynn name – but Ferb thought it sounded as stupid as it looked. Nevertheless, they made money, and lots of it. Michael's money might have funded Candace's wardrobe shopping sprees and Phineas' supply runs for their projects, but it ultimately meant little if he was willing to show up out of the blue after more than eleven years and suddenly find his children convenient once he saw dollar signs.

Down deep, Ferb wouldn't be true to himself if he didn't admit that he wasn't sometimes jealous of Phineas – the social ease, the never-ending optimism, the brilliant creativity. Ferb was no intellectual slouch himself, though, and Phineas didn't have his talent for finding ways to take a crazy idea and make it a workable blueprint. He was okay with that. He knew he was lucky, that both his savant streak and high level of functioning were not the norm in the autism spectrum, but even if he had been more challenged, he had no doubt that his family would have loved him just the same. And that was where he could never be jealous of his stepsiblings. If they weren't talented, if they weren't the children of an eighties star, if they weren't attractive...would Michael even care about them? The sad answer was, probably not. And for that, Ferb hated him.

"Hey. Ferbooch." Ferb had absolutely no idea where Phineas had come up with that nickname, but he didn't particularly care. It wasn't one Ferb would have chosen, but Phineas didn't use it often, so everything worked out. "What do you suppose the meeting's about?"

"Hard telling." Ferb shrugged. "I suppose it has something to do with your...." Ferb didn't even know what to call him; he didn't want to risk offending his brother.

"Sperm donor?" Phineas suggested.

It was a good thing Ferb hadn't been drinking anything, because when he sputtered, he would have sprayed it everywhere. "That'll do."

Phineas laughed. "That's what Candace always calls him. I used to want to know all about him when I was little, and Mom told me some things, but you could tell she was trying really hard to be nice. Candace explained the rest. Yeah, I was a little curious when he showed up. I kinda hoped he wanted to make up for lost time. It happens now and then."

Ferb nodded. Not in this case, but what needed to be said about that? They both knew. Phineas might even have understood, on whatever level he needed to accept it. Ferb, though? He could never understand. People like him got a reputation for being impossible to understand; the truth was one _could_ understand most on the autism spectrum if they cared enough to approach them on their level. If they bothered to try. From the inside looking out, though, the "normals" were an absolute mystery, especially the cruelest of them. What kind of twisted minds did it take to hurt kids, emotionally, physically, or worse? Ferb was glad he'd never met Michael, but a part of him hoped they would encounter one another. Sometimes, it was the quietest ones who had the most to say.

- - - - - - - -

Candace's first stop upon getting home was the upstairs bathroom so she could get the ridiculous bandages on her hands into some semblance of usefulness. Jeremy dutifully waited outside until he was waved in, when he parked himself on the edge of the tub. "Seriously, you guys, my parents are up to something."

Stacy snorted. "Welcome to my world. I swear it's my mom's goal in life to keep me guessing. You want I should ask your brothers what they think is going on?" She still had Candace's cell phone in her hand.

"Yeah." Candace nodded. "Tell them..." She tried to think of how best to phrase it, then tried to angle her way around the sink to get a closer look at her face in the mirror. It wasn't bandaged, upon her insistence, but the scrape on her cheek still didn't look pretty. Something caught Candace's foot, and she used that foot to scoot the trash can aside. Something clattered on the floor, something that had likely been missed during Sunday night's weekly trash take-out. _Oh, gross_. Fortunately, Candace had a legitimate excuse not to pick it up; if it was really nasty, why risk contaminating her bandages? She certainly wasn't going to ask her friends to get it. Wondering what "it" was, anyway, Candace looked down and saw a pregnancy test on the floor. With a very definite positive pink plus. Candace screamed.

- - - - - - - -

Ferb mentally chuckled at Phineas' grin when their cell phones both started ringing again. Some people, understandably, felt that the advisability of giving cell phones to eleven year olds was questionable, but their parents had erratic schedules and wanted to be able to keep tabs on their children – and provide a means for the children to reach them in an emergency. Whatever the reason he had his, the only separate calls or texts he routinely received were from the family, and rather than be offended, it continued to be a continued source of amusement between the brothers.

Phineas frowned as he checked his phone. "What do you think 'IEEEE!' means?"

Ferb thought for a second. "I can only guess that it's supposed to simulate Candace's scream." Onomatopoeia, if _"IEEEE"_ were actually a word. Ferb tried not to be a snob. He simply clung to his British roots because he wanted to, because they set him apart, and because they provided a link to his mother – even if she was Scottish, she'd settled in London. He had no issue with those attempting to learn English, but he often wished that those who professed fluency in the Queen's language would speak it properly. Exceptions could, of course, be made for commonly accepted Internet acronyms, LOL, as long as they were read and not spoken – Ferb was annoyed he'd thought in one just now – and pictures of cute animals, in which "netspeak" was acceptable.

Phineas nodded. "Yeah, that actually sounds a lot like it. What should we do?"

The solution, to Ferb, was obvious. "We head home for more details, and before we get there, she's likely to calm down and send the all-clear."

- - - - - - - -

"It's...positive!" Candace shrieked.

Jeremy, bless his gorgeous blond head, looked significantly confused and maybe a little hurt. "But, Candace, I thought you said you'd never--"

"I haven't!" Candace insisted. The hurt-puppy look in his eyes that quickly disappeared was all that kept Candace from being offended by that.

"Whoa, chill, girl," Stacy said. "I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation."

"Such as...?" Candace prompted.

"Maybe there's a bright star in the East?" Yeah, with that look on her face, Stacy knew she was reaching.

"Even if there is, I never peed on that thing!" Candace pointed at it accusingly. "And as gross as it is to even think about them doing _that_ yet, none of Phineas' or Ferb's friends are old enough to – and why would it be here...? Geez! Guys, there's only one person in this house who...argh!"

"So your mom's pregnant?" Jeremy asked calmly.

"Well, just look at it." Candace wrinkled up her nose. "Eww."

Stacy nodded calmly. "Yeah, anyone's pee other than your own is always kind of nasty."

"Not that!" Candace had all but forgotten about her bandages in the wake of this discovery.

Jeremy seemed to understand, but he also had a much younger sister. "Yeah, even though you know it's how you got here, realizing that your parents actually do have sex is kind of squicky."

Candace could have kissed him. Of course, she needed very little prompting to feel that way. "Exactly! And I could actually pretend my parents _hadn't_. They didn't have any of us _together_." It was the beauty of a blended family.

Stacy was beginning to catch the clue train. "Ah, so you'd actually be okay with a new baby, except for the whole sex issue?"

Candace shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, it's kind of a lot to think about. It'd be a big change."

"Yeah." Stacy nodded. "You're probably fine, though. That one looks like it's been there a bit and my mom says most of them turn positive eventually if you leave them too long. Well, not to me, because I've never used one, but I've heard her tell people that."

"Huh." Candace looked back at the test in question. "Did not know that."

"My mom said most people don't," Stacy said. "So you're probably fine. You want me to send your brothers the all-clear?"

Candace sighed and nodded, opening the medicine cabinet and fumbling for the bandage scissors until Jeremy jumped up to grab them. Yeah, they were so going to get married.

- - - - - - - -

Linda's stomach had been fluttering all night long, and she was pretty sure it was her nerves and not misguided morning sickness. It was one thing to tell a small child they'd be getting a baby brother or sister, and quite another to make the same announcement to children the age of her own. Phineas and Ferb were eleven; Candace was nearly sixteen. This was going to change the family dynamic completely. But it was happening no matter what, so they might as well get "the talk" out of the way. Linda had confirmed her pregnancy at a doctor's appointment that morning, and despite the health concerns she and her doctor – and Lawrence – shared, Linda was almost beginning to look forward to this. She was nine weeks along, and so far, so good. The doctor had done an ultrasound, and though the baby resembled a hamster more than a human at this point, it was wiggling and healthy. Linda knew it wasn't hormones that had her tears filling with eyes when she heard the heartbeat. She'd cried at every appointment with Candace and Phineas, too.

The whole family was assembled, except for Perry, who was unable to be located. It was still early, though; he was always home before nightfall. Linda and Lawrence exchanged nervous glances. Linda took a deep breath. "I guess you're all wondering what this is about." It was interesting to look around the room and take in their expressions. Though a stranger wouldn't have read much of anything into Ferb's face, he was definitely not happy about something. Candace was vaguely paranoid – not unusual, but understandable under the circumstances. Phineas was intrigued, but neutral.

Lawrence stepped up to help out. "Kids, your mother and I...well, we...." Suddenly, he paused, looking contemplative, and turned to Linda. "Darling, this might be a little easier if I knew what a binkie was."

Linda was about to tell him it was just a term for a pacifier when Candace shrieked. Not as loud or shrill as her usual, but definitely a shriek. "Candace, honey--"

"Oh, no, you guys _did_!" Candace's face scrunched up as she shook her head. "I need brain bleach."

"Did what?"

Candace looked equal parts scandalized and overwhelmed as she wailed, "You guys _had sex_!"

Linda wanted to burst out laughing, but while she struggled with a more diplomatic answer, Ferb jumped to the rescue.

"Well, of course they have." Ferb looked as if it should have been obvious. Knowing him, he probably felt it was. "They're married and they still feel affectionate toward one another. Why wouldn't they?"

It was one of the few times Linda could remember Phineas giving Ferb a strange look. "Dude. _Way_ too much information."

Ferb shrugged. "I accept it as a given that it happens. Details – now that would be far too much, worrisome if they were divulged, and it would no doubt scar our fragile minds."

Linda was left laughing so hard she could barely see straight, but she wasn't alone. Ferb's sense of humor was normally subtle, but it could be deadly as a razor blade when he put his mind to it.

Candace was the first to recover. "So, you guys really are having another baby?"

Linda nodded. "Yes. It's not what any of us expected, I know, but I think we'll be all right."

"Wow." Candace looked at Lawrence. "I hope you made it a girl this time. I have quite enough little brothers, thank you."

Lawrence frowned strangely until comprehension dawned. "Ah, I see you've had a touch of genetics in your science classes."

"Wow, a baby? Cool!" Phineas bounced in his seat. "That'd be so awesome. What do you think, Ferb?"

Ferb was thoughtful. "Not to be corny, but I suspect this may be the start of one of our greatest adventures yet."

Phineas didn't look impressed. "You just like saying that, don't you?"

Ferb smiled cryptically. "Yes."

- - - - - - - -

_Wow, this chapter ended up being longer than I'd expected – which is a good thing. Ferb just opens up and keeps going every time I do his POV; it's definitely the quiet ones you have to watch out for. As for the comment Candace directs to Lawrence, she's referencing the fact that it's the father who determines the gender of a child when it's conceived. :) I'm pleasantly surprised to see I shocked a lot of people with this twist...Linda was pregnant when she died in the original timeline, but didn't know it. Thus, when the future is changed for the better, she still is. It seemed like an interesting writing challenge and I never turn down a good challenge. But don't worry; the new arrival's not going to steal all the screen time. There will still be plenty of the Flynn-Fletcher family we already know and love. _


	11. Once Upon a Dream

Lawrence looked around, harboring a sense that something wasn't right. It seemed like he should be elsewhere, but here he was, in his old flat in London, and he hadn't the faintest idea how that had happened. Everything looked the same as it used to, but he knew he didn't live there anymore.

"Hello, love." Lawrence would have known that voice anywhere. He turned, frowning as he met Libby's eyes. Now he _knew_ something strange was going on.

"Am I dreaming?" he asked.

Libby nodded. "Got it in one. All these years and I've just now figured out this little trick." Her rich Scottish brogue warmed the words. "This appearing in dreams, it's not easy work, but we never really did get a proper goodbye."

Lawrence shook his head. "No, we didn't." She'd died, suddenly, miles away from him, and when people asked him how he'd gotten over that, he told them the truth. There was no getting over it, just learning how to cope. It got a little easier with every passing day. He only thought of her once in awhile now, when the light caught Ferb's hair and it glistened like hers used to...when he heard a certain song...really, only on days ending in "y." He'd confessed that to Linda once, before they were married, praying it wouldn't scare her off, and when she'd kissed his cheek and pulled him into a hug, he knew they were meant to be together. But he loved Linda dearly and now, standing here with Libby, it was a little awkward.

Libby shrugged, smiling. "Don't worry about feeling awkward. It's only a dream. I met your Linda once, briefly. Well, sort of. Time is a complicated thing. If it changes, the living never know the difference unless they made the change. It's probably for the best, but it's a little strange sometimes on this side, knowing what could have happened – sometimes _did_ happen – but didn't, in the end."

Lawrence tried to make sense of what she was telling him. "Are you saying that something happened to Linda?"

"Only in another lifetime," Libby assured him, "one you needn't worry about. My point is, I don't think the living can ever truly realize how many possibilities there are for a different outcome to each day. You can't spend time questioning life; just enjoy it. You married quite a lady – but, then, I always knew you had good taste." She chuckled, settling down on the couch. "I'm not supposed to tell you anything about your future, you know, and that rule never made much sense to me before, considering I can't bloody well predict it."

"But?" Lawrence prompted, sensing there was more.

"_But_," Libby continued, "let's just say when things fell apart before, thanks to that wanker Michael, I found myself with a sweet little girl to watch until her mother could join her. The whole thing was dreadfully sad, really, but you'll notice we're alone now."

Lawrence shuddered at the mention of Michael's name; the last time they'd seen him was when Linda had told him to go to hell a few months back. The day Linda found out she was pregnant. Startled, Lawrence realized whatever tragic future Libby was alluding to, Michael had hurt Linda somehow. "Then...the little girl...?"

Libby grinned, touching Lawrence's cheek tenderly. "She's beautiful, love, and I'm so happy for you." She pulled away. "You take care of yourself, now, and give Ferb my love. I'll be watching."

As Lawrence touched her cheek in return, nodding, he startled awake, finding himself in his bed, his blanket falling off the edge. Sleepily, he grabbed at it, hoping he would remember his dream later but too tired to get up and jot specifics down. He rolled over, smiling as Linda slept soundly beside him, and leaned over to brush a kiss against her cheek. He put a hand on her waist, smiling as he remembered the joy on her face as she'd felt their baby's first kicks earlier that day. Their daughter, if his dream was to be believed. Lawrence snuggled up beside his wife as he drifted back to sleep, secure in the belief that everything was going to work out.

- - - - - - - -

Phineas tiptoed back to bed after getting up to use the bathroom, careful not to wake his brother. He slipped back under the covers, smiling as Perry kicked his legs in his sleep, making contended little platypus noises. Phineas had to wonder what platypuses dreamed about, considering they spent their days not doing much at all.

- - - - - - - -

Perry looked around Doofenshmirtz's lab, sighing to himself. His nemesis had always been a bit off the wall, but this was ridiculous. Doofenshmirtz was fond of impromptu musical numbers, but trapping Perry with a circle of chorus dancers was truly over the top. Especially considering they were wearing platypus suits. To perform _Phantom of the Opera_. Perry settled onto his haunches, launching into a kick of his own, but it didn't deter the dancers.

Suddenly, Major Monogram burst into the room, waving his arms. "Stop, stop! This is entirely too silly!"

Blessedly, Perry woke up at that point, however briefly, swearing to himself as he padded across the room to join Ferb for awhile that he was going to stop watching Lawrence Fletcher's British comedies before bed.

- - - - - - - -

Phineas didn't have to worry about waking Ferb, because Ferb was already awake. He often woke when his brother slipped out of the room, though not because Phineas was noisy. Ferb was a very light sleeper; he had to be pretty deep in REM sleep for something _not_ to wake him. Fortunately, he got back to sleep pretty easily as well. He stroked Perry's head before rolling over to get comfortable again, smiling to himself as he heard Phineas' breathing even out into his normal sleeping pattern. Ferb noticed these things. He was highly observant; it was a part of his nature. It was three o'clock in the morning, so any moment, he should hear a train horn in the distance, running by Danville's station. Yes, there it was.

Across the room, Phineas' eyelids were beginning to flutter. He very quickly entered REM sleep, which some claimed was a sleep disorder, but Ferb liked to think of it as an extension of his brother's creativity. Phineas' brain never stopped dreaming while he was awake, after all. Ferb wondered what Phineas saw in his dreams. Was that the basis for many of his wild ideas? It wouldn't have surprised Ferb. He wondered sometimes what he dreamed about as well. He knew he _did_ dream, but he could never remember any of it when he awoke.

- - - - - - - -

Phineas was finishing fencing in the yard for Danville's biggest ball pit. Who cared if he and Ferb were too old for it? They were going to have fun – and besides, it was mostly for their little sister. Candace surprised them all by jumping in wholeheartedly, even inviting little Suzy Johnson over.

It was another one of the best days ever.

- - - - - - - -

Candace blinked at her dark room, groaning in disgust at the clock that glowed 4:42 AM. She hated when she woke up this early, especially when it interrupted the most wonderful dream. She was older, in college, and marrying Jeremy, just like she'd always known she would. It was a fairy tale wedding, and though the Cinderella dress wasn't exactly what Candace had in mind for her dream wedding while awake, it would do. Then the dream had skipped ahead, as some did, and she had a baby and she and Jeremy were the perfect happy family. It was so meant to be.

Candace closed her eyes, hoping to get a little more sleep and hopefully pick up where her dreams had left off.

- - - - - - - -

The end result was definitely worth it, but the physical toll of pregnancy could be a real pain sometimes. Linda stopped counting the number of times she woke up because the baby seemed to be using her bladder as a beanbag chair, but at least she always had Lawrence's arms to return to.

She'd had the strangest dream – she'd always seemed to have some odd ones when she was pregnant, but this one was particularly odd. First, it had been the standard disjointed stream of consciousness she was used to when her dreams got weird. But then, briefly, she'd met Lawrence's first wife, Ferb's mother, who asked her to "take care of my boys." Of course she would, Linda had assured her. Libby Fletcher had also let slip that the baby Linda was carrying was a girl, though she wouldn't say how she knew.

Linda had an appointment the next day for an ultrasound, and she had been planning to keep the baby's gender a surprise. But now she had to know, just to confirm. As she settled herself back into bed, a thought occurred to Linda. She had been to the London cemetery with Lawrence where Libby was buried, for emotional support. Apparently, Libby's full name was Elizabeth, though no one called her that, Lawrence said. If the baby was indeed a girl, Linda thought it might be nice to make her middle name Elizabeth, as a tribute. She'd have to discuss it with Lawrence, of course, but somehow Linda didn't think he'd mind.


	12. Get Out of My Life

_My apologies for the delay – I've been insanely busy lately, working lots of overtime and prepping for a Stargate: Atlantis fanfilm I'm involved with. But, finally, here's Chapter 12 – thanks for your patience!_

Summer had rolled around, and while the ideas – and resulting projects – were still big, Ferb and Phineas had come to realize they didn't have to fit them all into a single summer. Boredom was still an intolerable condition, but with a new baby on the way, there was nearly always something to do. And when there wasn't, there was always The List, where the brothers jotted down any idea for future projects they happened to have, whether it had merit or not. That could be sorted out later.

Ferb might not have been one to talk much, but he thought a lot. Sometimes it revolved around the nature of the universe, and sometimes it was the little things – whether the rain would let up, if the oddities on both sides of his biological parents' families were just eccentricity or something more, nothing world-shattering. At the moment the doorbell rang, he was wondering what his little sister – they had found out the baby was a girl – was thinking at the moment or if her brain, while present and functioning, had developed enough for conscious thought yet. The moment the door opened, however, all thoughts of the baby fled from his mind, to be replaced by a flash of anger. Ferb had never been terribly demonstrative with his emotions, but what he felt, he felt deeply – and he was furious.

Michael stood on the other side of the door. Ferb had never met the man personally, but it only took a quick Internet search to find out what the man looked like for future reference. The disdain and annoyance on his mother's face would have been a clue even if Ferb hadn't done any research. Ferb edged out of the living room and into the kitchen to get Phineas, one thought on loop in his mind and directed at Michael. _You don't belong here._

Phineas turned away from whatever he was doing that involved a sizable amount of Cheese Whiz. "Hey, Ferb. What's up?"

Though intrigued by what "I'm going to get us a snack" had turned into, Ferb had bigger concerns. He swiped two fingerfuls of Cheese Whiz and sucked them clean before getting down to business. "Your sperm donor is back. We need a plan."

Phineas' upper lip curled uncharacteristically. "Got any ideas?"

Ferb snatched some more Cheese Whiz, then smiled. "I think it might be time for a bit of good, old-fashioned developmental regression."

Linda was less than happy when she found Michael on her porch, especially considering the number of his emails she had replied to, telling him quite clearly she was in no way interested in any of his offers. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Michael shrugged and smiled, smarmy as ever. "I was in Chicago to sign a new artist to the label, and I thought perhaps I could talk you into reconsidering. Family acts are big these days."

Linda would have slammed the door in his face, but she doubted it would help. "In case you haven't realized it by now, my family is not an act."

Michael looked down, his eyes focusing on her expanded waistline. The baby must have sensed her unease, because she began kicking against Linda's lower ribs. "I can see that." He smiled. "Don't worry, you won't have to wait until the baby's born to get back to your career. Pregnant celebrities are all the rage these days."

Linda stared at him, shaking her head. "Did you suffer some kind of brain injury after the divorce? Because that's the only thing I can think of that would account for your sheer inability to learn."

Michael laughed. "In the business, we call it 'determination,' remember?"

"Not my business," Linda insisted. "Not any more, and even if I changed my mind, not with you." She was about to really let him have it, when Phineas walked in. _Perfect, a distraction. _"Hey, sweetie, what's up?" She hoped he wanted something, so she'd have an excuse to leave the room – and, of course, shut the door in Michael's face.

Phineas turned his best puppy-dog eyes on her. "Mom, Ferb's having a fit. He won't listen to me."

Linda's first reaction was concern; when the boys had been very young and Ferb had an autistic meltdown, Phineas had labeled them "fits." He'd also been about the only one Ferb _would_ listen to then. Phineas' wide, begging eyes suggested there was more going on, however, and the wink he gave her when Michael turned his head for a second clued her in. Bless those boys. "Oh, my." Ferb wandered in from the kitchen a moment later, and Linda went to him. The look of unbridled rage Ferb turned on Michael suggested this little drama was about to become award-worthy.

It wasn't exactly hard for Ferb to summon all the anger he'd ever felt in his lifetime and direct it toward Michael. A good bit of it was reserved for Michael already. He jerked away from his mother's hand on his shoulder, knowing from the look on her face he understood. His fits, as Phineas had labeled them, had never been spectacular, just quiet withdrawal so he could process, but Michael didn't know that. Ferb launched himself across the living room, falling forward to skid to a stop near Michael. Fortunately, he'd calculated his trajectory to avoid rug burn. "You bastard!"

Michael's eyes widened, and he looked to his ex-wife, no doubt wondering what to make of this.

Phineas hurried over, just as they'd planned, grabbing Ferb's arm. "Um, yeah, excuse my brother; he's autistic...wegottagobye." He tried to pull Ferb away – though he wasn't really trying – but Ferb dug his heels in and pretended to resist.

"No!" Ferb snapped. It felt rather feral on some level, but it was nothing Michael didn't deserve. "No!" He snarled – actually snarled, heaven help him – at Michael, screeching, "Get out!" Michael opened his mouth, but Ferb didn't give him the chance to respond. "Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout!"

Michael stepped back, out of the door frame. "Well...obviously this isn't a good time for you, Linda. I'll call you later."

As soon as Michael was clear of the door, Ferb slammed it shut, then waited until he was sure Michael was safely in his car and out of ear shot before he fell with Phineas into a heap on the carpet, both of them laughing. It wasn't more than a few seconds before their mother pulled them into a hug, shaking with laughter as well. "Oh, you boys," she murmured. "I owe you one." Her eyes sparkled as she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone, contemplating it with a mischievous grin. "I've got to call Candace."


	13. Hey, Little Sister

Babies were fascinating creatures, Ferb thought. The whole world was a new place for them to explore. It was unfortunate that most of them lost that drive to explore as they got older. Ferb was glad he'd kept his, and he was even more grateful that he had a brother who felt the same way. Their new baby sister could be a perfect partner for them someday if they encouraged her; Ferb was sure of it. He was also sure Candace would not be happy with more of her siblings finding outrageous things to do, but it would be all right. Ferb would certainly never let his little sister get involved with anything dangerous.

Giselle Elizabeth Fletcher was a very alert baby, with wide blue eyes that were examining everything around her. Ferb new from reading that newborns were very nearsighted, so he carefully taped a family photo to the inside of her bassinet, right within her range of vision. That way, she could see her family even when they weren't standing close enough. Though she was only two days old, Giselle pretty much had everyone in the household wrapped around her finger already.

Ferb reached out to stroke his sister's light brown hair, telling her, "You are going to be one very spoiled little girl if we're not careful."

"Oh, heavens, I hope not," Candace said from behind him. "We don't need another one like Jeremy's little sister running around."

Ferb shuddered at the thought. "I should say not. That child is a terror."

"Tell me about it," Candace sighed. "I'm going to have her for a sister-in-law someday." She reached into the bassinet and scooped Giselle into her arms. "But _you're_ going to be just fine, aren't you, pretty girl?"

Perry waddled into the room, and Ferb moved to scoop _him_ up, holding Perry so he could see the baby. "I don't think you two have been introduced yet. Perry, this is Giselle."

"Ew." Candace took a step backwards as Perry chattered in response. "Watch those platy-cooties. She's just a _baby_, for crying out loud."

Ferb would never understand why Candace was never entirely at ease with Perry, but he knew she loved the platypus. She simply wouldn't admit it.

"Hey, guys." Phineas came into the nursery with a notebook in his hand. "I just had the greatest idea!"

"Don't even think about it," Candace warned.

"It's not that big," Phineas assured her.

"If it's some crazy thing you're going to strap onto Giselle's head to read her thoughts, you can forget about it," Candace told him. "Mom would never stand for it, and neither will I."

"No, that's not it." Phineas paused and scribbled something on his notepad. "That's a good idea, though. Maybe when she's older."

"Forget it." Candace gently put Giselle back in her bed, as the baby had fallen asleep. She was never awake for very long, but Ferb knew that was normal at her age. "You are not using her for any of your experiments or projects or anything. Now what's your idea?"

Phineas grinned. "The ultimate baby entertainment system. I figured we would base it on the most popular infant toys currently on the market and go from there."

"That almost sounds like a good idea...almost." Candace crossed her arms. "Fine, but keep it small and simple." With that, she walked out.

Ferb laughed quietly to himself. "When is she going to realize that we never do small or simple?"

Phineas shrugged. "She'll get it someday. So, what do you think?"

Ferb nodded. "Let's do this."

_Thank you all so much for your feedback thus far on this story, and your patience with the egregiously long wait between the last chapter and this one. I got sucked in with other writing projects AND moved from Georgia to Illinois, so it's been pretty crazy here. I'll make it up to you by taking requests for the final chapter (or two, depending on how many requests I get). Anything goes – this is Phineas and Ferb we're talking about! The sky's the limit._


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